


Once Upon a Time

by MsPerception427



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Clint Barton & Tony Stark Friendship, Clint Barton-centric, F/M, Gen, M/M, Protective Phil Coulson, Protective Sam Wilson, Sam Wilson is a Gift
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 07:11:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18231608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsPerception427/pseuds/MsPerception427
Summary: For twelve years, Obadiah ruled the kingdom of York with an iron fist. The days of peace and harmony were gone leaving only fear and cruelty. The Knights of old were discarded leaving behind a group of thugs who followed through on the orders of their king with vicious glee. For twelve long years, the kingdom suffered. But the winds of change were in motion and all it would take was one small spark to ignite a revolution.And that spark was named Clint Barton





	Once Upon a Time

**Author's Note:**

> This is the beginning of a WIP I've had sitting on my hard drive for months now. I'm hoping that if I post more, I will find the inspiration to finish. I have it mostly half done.

Once upon a time in a land not unlike our own in a time that’s also kind of like now (but also not really), there was the magical kingdom of York. It was ruled by a short-tempered, war-minded, intolerant tyrannical despot obsessed with erasing the legacy and achievements of the more beloved rulers before him. So yeah, actually it’s exactly like now. Ahem… anyway, this man was named ~~Don~~ Obadiah Stane and he was once the trusted advisor for King Howard Stark. The men had been friends since their childhood days and there were few that the king would’ve trusted more with his kingdom than Obadiah.   
            Unfortunately, that trust was misplaced and Obadiah betrayed his longtime friend. In one bloody night, the king, his queen and their teenage son were slaughtered in their sleep by an assassin. The culprit was so quick that the palace guard were barely able to move from their posts before he was gone. Only one caught a glimpse of him before he fled into the dark. But the blank blue eyes and dark expression stood out in the mind of the guard. They could never find the man again and so he was written off as a ghost. With no living heir left to contest, Obadiah took control of the throne not even a day after the murders. It was clear to all that he played a role in the deaths of the royal family but he managed to conceal just how involved he was. Those that dared to oppose him were publicly executed.   
            For twelve years, Obadiah ruled the kingdom of York with an iron fist. The days of peace and harmony were gone leaving only fear and cruelty. The knights of old were discarded leaving behind a group of thugs who followed through on the orders of their king with vicious glee. For twelve long years, the kingdom suffered. But the winds of change were in motion and all it would take was one small spark to ignite a revolution.

And that spark was named Clint Barton.

* * *

            “Does no one else find it super gross and kind of disturbing as hell that His Royal Oldness is marrying a woman young enough to be like his great-granddaughter?”   
            Clint wasn’t even surprised when he felt the sharp stinging pain commonly associated with Sam’s slaps before he saw the man move. Still, as he winced and gently probed the back of his head, Clint could see the twitch of the older man’s lips. Clint took it as a win. Even a slight twitch was a break in the usually stoic man’s demeanor and to Clint that was enough to declare a victory. It was the little things that counted in life. And really anything to help pass the time during guard duty. Clint wasn’t a religious man by any means but he firmly believed that there was some force out there that hated humanity so much they came up with guard duty as a way to punish them.   
            “Clint, I can hear your weird brain working from over here,” Sam said. “What crazy thing are you overthinking about now?”   
            “I know this hostility comes from a place of love,” Clint retorted, “so I won’t take it too personally.”   
            “You do that, weirdo.”   
            Clint couldn’t help the full on beaming smile that spread across his face as Sam poorly concealed a chuckle behind his hand. Barton: 14, Wilson: 3. Almost as if he sensed Clint’s new train of thought, Sam elbowed him in the ribs. Clint was gearing up to hit him back when he was suddenly shoved forward. The unexpected motion rocked him off his feet and it was only Sam’s steadying arm around him that saved him from hitting the ground. Sadly Clint didn’t need to look to know who his attacker was. The man was as predictable as he was full of misplaced aggression and possibly body altering drugs.  
            “What the hell is your problem now, Rumlow?”   
            “Same thing it always is, Barton,” the older Captain of the Royal Guard hissed. “You.”   
            Clint rolled his eyes. “I’d like to point out that I’ve been over here existing and not bothering you or the rest of the human necks you call guards. You had to come over here to start this. So I gotta wonder why you’re so obsessed with me, buddy?”   
            “Clint,” Sam hissed in warning.   
            “I’m just saying. I know I’m adorable but try and resist this pretty face, will you?”   
            Brock’s eyes narrowed into slits as he stared Clint down. This would be the point where Clint normally backed down. Rumlow had a hard-on for harassing Clint and it bugged him to no end when then younger man didn’t rise to the bait. So normally Clint would pick at him and then retreat. Normally… but not today. Today was historically not a great day and as such his self-preservation went down from its usual abysmal level to virtually nonexistent.   
            “One of these days, Barton. You’re not going to have your pet bodyguard around,” Rumlow whispered. “And the broad that’s always covering for you won’t be able to save your sorry ass. That’s going to be my favorite day.”   
            “For starters, that day is never going to happen. I don’t go anywhere without Sam. It’s written in the fine print of our friendship contract. Next, that ‘broad’ you so crudely speak of is going to be Queen in a matter of days. So maybe you should show the respect she deserves.”   
            “And if I don’t?”   
            “I would hate to have to tell her future husband… you know our King and esteemed and psychotic employer.”   
            “As if he would ever take the word of the son of a traitor,” Brock retorted. Clint flinched involuntarily at the jab at Phil. “Oh, wait. That’s right. That bastard wasn’t even your father. You were just some poor orphan that followed him around like a puppy. How does it feel knowing that he not only betrayed the kingdom, he couldn’t care enough about you to bring you with him when he ran away like the cowardly traitor he is?”   
            Clint felt his hands clenched into fists at his side and wasn’t at all surprised when Sam placed a grounding hand on his shoulder. He tried to not let Brock and the other guards get to him. But Phil would always be a sensitive topic for him. Phil wasn’t his father but he was close enough. And despite the fact that the whole kingdom branded him as a traitor, Clint couldn’t help but miss him. He knew Phil had nothing to do with the murders of the King and Queen and their son. But he couldn’t prove it. And so he kept quiet. But twelve years had done nothing to change how deeply Clint missed Phil… and all of the royal family.   
            “Hey,” Sam murmured low and just for him. “Take a walk, okay? Calm down.”   
            “But we have duty.”   
            “Correction, we have busy work to keep you distracted so that you don’t bother Pepper while she’s getting her dress made. You know how the two of you get when you’re together. I can cover this section by myself. Or since our esteemed Captain seems to be lacking anything else to do….”   
            Brock sneered in their direction once more before skulking off. Sam shook his head. Clint echoed the sentiment. “I really hate that guy.”   
            “I know. But you can’t let him get to you. He does it on purpose.”   
            “Yeah, because everyone associates me with Phil. A traitor to the throne.”   
            “I think you and I both know that’s not the case,” Sam said, patient and understanding in the face of Clint’s attitude. He sighed. The other man didn’t deserve this. He’s been dealing with Clint’s mood swings for the better part of ten years. He honestly didn’t think he would’ve survived losing not only Phil but also the Starks if hadn’t been for Pepper and Sam. “Now take a walk. Come back when you think you’re less likely to punch Brock on sight.”   
            “That might take a while.”   
            “Come back in an hour,” Sam amended. Clint grinned. “Okay?”   
            “Yeah. Okay. Thanks.”   
            “Don’t mention it. You just owe me dinner.”   
            “Not a problem. You, me, Pepper and some stew tomorrow?”   
            Sam held his hand up for the overly complicated handshake that a ten-year-old Clint forced Sam to learn when they first cemented their friendship all those years ago. It was like second nature to them now. But instead of letting go at the end of the sequence, Sam pulled Clint in close, turning so that he could whisper in Clint’s ear.   
            “I know what today is. Just try and get through it.” Clint swallowed the sudden lump in his throat and managed a weak nod. “You’re a good kid. And I know that no matter where he is, Phil is so proud of you.” He pulled away and gave Clint one last smile before further destroying his composure. “Happy Birthday, kiddo.”   
            Clint blinked away the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. “Thanks.”   
            “No, problem. Oh, and Clint?”   
            The younger man paused on his walk away from Sam. “Yeah?”   
            “I believe the official tally is now Barton: 14, Wilson: 4.”   
            Clint smiled, happy for the abrupt change in topic even as he let out a wet laugh that sounded just a hair too close to a sob. Sam gave him a pat on the cheek before pushing him on his way. He really was grateful to Sam. The man was twenty, the same age as Clint now when they first met and instead of shunning the small, runty ten-year old that decided to cling to the first person to show him kindness in two years, Sam embraced him. He happily let Clint tag along with him and when Clint turned eighteen, Sam was the first to speak up about him joining the knights officially. He was the one to always stand up for Clint when the others were on his case. He was the one that brought Clint out of his brooding moments. Clint was very aware that he would not have made it this far without Sam Wilson. The man was truly a gift.   
            Clint strolled idly along the back streets of the bustling town. Despite his unorthodox childhood, Clint enjoyed the village he was born in. Though a large part of that came from the few blissful years he spent as a ward of the King. Clint was four when his parents died and five when his older brother decided a kid wasn’t conducive to the life he wanted to live. He was on his own for barely a day when the palace guards found him on order of the King. He never knew what it was about him that made the King himself take notice but notice Howard Stark had. He plucked the tiny orphan off the street and treated him like a second child. And Clint was grateful. His life before the castle was literally the stuff of nightmares. But the three short years he spent living with the royal family and following Phil around in his duties as the head of the royal guard were the best years of his life. And then it all changed… twelve years ago. Twelve years ago today. He really hated his birthday.   
            A quiet grunt caught his attention. His brow furrowed even as his feet started moving him in the direction of an alleyway off the main pathway. It was getting late and most of the villagers were home by now, eating dinner and spending time with their families. He was confused as to who would still be out there when he caught sight of one of his fellow knights, a man under Rumlow’s tutelage, Jack Rollins pinning a slighter man in shabby robes against the wall. The man was struggling though his hood remained up and over his head the whole time.   
            “Rollins?! What the hell are you doing?!” Clint yelled, rushing into the alley.   
            “None of your business, Barton. Don’t you have Wilson’s ass to be kissing right about now?” Rollins hissed. Clint noticed the other man tense slightly before he went back to struggling against Jack’s meaty fist.   
            “Dude, back off now. We’re supposed to be protecting the people, not harassing them. What did this guy even do? Look at you wrong?”   
            “I don’t like him,” Rollins grinned as if this was a perfectly rational explanation. Then again, it probably was to a psycho like Rollins. “What do you care anyway? Remembering how you were a street rat just like him?”   
            “A street rat with a better education than you,” Clint smirked. He could see the jab hit its mark as intended.   
            Clint knew that the majority of the knights hated him because he grew up a ward of the castle. He technically still was but he would be damned before he ever acknowledged Stane or Pierce as his guardian. Still logic was not a friend of the ignorant and Clint’s not at all subtle hatred for the tyrannical king and his megalomaniacal adviser did not ingratiate him with the mouth breathers that made up the knight guard or HYDRA as Pierce insisted they be called. Why he wanted them be associated with a magical multi-headed murderous serpent, Clint had no idea. Pierce creeped him out on several levels and he made it a point to avoid the man whenever he could. Tony couldn’t stand him either. Tony…   
            He stopped that train of thought. He wasn’t going down that road right now. Not when he had a pissed off Rollins to deal with. The knight dropped his former target and charged at Clint. The younger man smirked before sidestepping the clumsy attack. He jumped back as Rollins made several more lunges towards him before finally punching the man in the face. He smiled as Rollins growled.   
            “Come on, Jackie. I could do this all day.”   
            “You hit me!” Jack hissed through clenched teeth.   
            “Well, to be fair, you were trying to hit me first.”   
            “That’s it, Barton. You’re done this time. I told Rumlow that it was a mistake leaving you to roam free. You’re probably working with that traitor Coulson.”   
            “You leave Coulson out of this!” Clint snapped. “Phil Coulson was a good a man. We all know he never would’ve betrayed the king or his family. We all know who killed the Starks and it wasn’t Phil Coulson.”   
            Jack smirked, wiping the blood away from his chin. “Oh yeah, you’re definitely done this time, brat.”   
            “Oh man, what the hell ever,” Clint retorted. “I really don’t care!”   
            “You will when Pierce is done with you.”   
            Clint couldn’t help the shudder at the thought of Pierce coming anywhere near him. The current King’s advisor creeped him out. He used an old form of magic and Clint heard the screams coming from his workspace at night. The man was a monster and Clint was not too bold to admit that he was afraid.   
            “Yeah, well he can shove it too.”   
            Rollins laughed coldly before running off to no doubt tattle that Clint basically accused Obadiah of murdering the Starks. Now that he was gone, Clint allowed himself to feel a moment of sheer, unmitigated panic. Because what the hell did he just do?! He ruined everything! He ran a hand through his hair shaking slightly before taking a deep breath and pushing back the anxiety. He exhaled slowly, letting the worries and stress flow out like Tony taught him when they were kids. Panic attacks weren’t new. He had them all the time and the prince took it upon himself to help Clint learn how to deal with them.   
            But Tony was gone. The King and Queen were gone. Phil was gone. Clint was… not. He was still here and that was a fact. He would live because they couldn’t. He would make them proud and one day find a way to bring honor back to the kingdom and justice for the Stark name. But for now, he had to shake this off. He made this mess and he could damn well fix it. But first…   
            “Hey, you’re still here?” Clint turned to look at the hooded man lingering in the alley. The hood remained up, shielding the top portion of the man’s face but Clint could make out the goatee on the man’s chin. Tony would’ve loved it. He was obsessed with growing epic facial hair. But he never did…   
            “Clint?” the man said, taking a step towards him.   
            “How do you know my name?” Clint asked, slowly. The voice seemed familiar but in a way that was impossible. Because that person couldn’t possibly be here. But the way he said his name. The way he seemed familiar…. Clint felt his blood run cold. It couldn’t be but…. “Tony?”

If the man was Tony or not, Clint wouldn’t know because he was suddenly being thrown against a wall. He grunted as the rough brick of the building scratched his cheek. What the hell? He whirled around, expecting to see that the man had somehow attacked him when he came face to face with a seething mad redhead woman. With a very sharp knife pointed at his very vulnerable neck. Oh this day could apparently get worse. Good to know.   
            “Look whatever you want, take it. I don’t want any trouble.”   
            “Hey, Nat, back off,” the other man said, pulling on her free shoulder. “Relax, spider chick. The kid was helping me. He’s okay.”   
            “He’s a knight,” the woman countered. “They don’t help people. They only destroy. That’s all they’re good for.”   
            “Hey, I’m right here!” Clint protested. The woman pressed the knife closer, actually piercing the skin. He hissed.   
            “Hey, stop! He’s fine. He’s okay. He’s… I trust him. He’s one of the good guys. Like us. This is Clint Barton!”

Nat’s eyes sparked with recognition before rolling so far back in her head that Clint was concerned they would be stuck there permanently. They didn’t and she finally lowered the knife. She gave Clint one more dismissive look before turning to face the hooded man.

“What did we say about straying too far from the camp?”   
            “I know but I had to see them. You know what today is.”   
            “We don’t have time for sentimentality and feelings. We’re fighting a war,” Nat retorted, grabbing the man by the arm and dragging him away.   
            Clint watched as the man struggled for a bit before realizing the futility in fighting against the woman. Though she was shorter, she was still strong. They left but not before he heard the man wish him a happy birthday. The words had him freezing once again. He knew it wasn’t Tony. It couldn’t be. He saw the blood. He saw the body right before Pierce and Obadiah had Tony tossed into the fire with his parents. So he knew. He knew there was no chance in hell that this was Tony. But his stupid heart wouldn’t accept it.   
            He didn’t know how long he stood there lost in his own thoughts but it was apparently too long. He flinched when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder. Clint blinked at the now darkened alley and then focused on Sam. The older man was wearing an expression that was a mix of resigned, angry and panicked. Clint was vividly familiar with all of those emotions at the moment as he was rapidly cycling through them.   
            “Clint! What did you do?” Sam asked, clasping the younger man by the shoulders and shaking him lightly. “How many times have I told you not to pick a fight with Rumlow’s boys?”   
            “I didn’t do it on purpose! Rollins was beating up a guy in the alley just because. He said he didn’t like him. And I just… I don’t know I snapped! But Sam, the guy… he sounded like Tony. And I know you’re going to say that it wasn’t him and I know it wasn’t but…. He felt like him and I couldn’t let Rollins hurt him.”   
            “Oh, kid,” Sam sighed. He ran a hand over his face while tugging Clint closer. “Listen, Rollins already got to Rumlow and they’re taking this to Pierce.”   
            “Great. Pierce is going to murder me. He hates me. I mean he hates everyone but he has a special hate on for me.”   
            “Probably because you refuse to tell him where Phil is.”   
            “If I knew where Phil was, don’t you think I would be there with him instead of this miserable shithole?!” Clint snapped. He shook his head. “Then again, once Pierce get his hands on me, I probably will be with Phil again.”   
            “Clint?” Sam asked, trailing off with concern in his eyes. “What are…?”  
            “Let’s face facts, Sam. Phil is probably just as dead as the Starks. I’ve been holding onto the childish hope that somehow they’re all still alive out there somewhere but it’s all bullshit. There is no such thing as happy endings. There’s only death. That’s the only ending.”   
            “That’s remarkably dark… even for you.”   
            “Today is a dark day.”   
            Sam sighed again, squeezing Clint’s shoulder lightly. “Look, kid. I’ve known you for ten years. I’ve watched you grow from a quiet, scrawny yet scrappy kid to a loudmouth, scrawny and still too damn scrappy young man.” Clint smiled despite himself. “You have never given up hope before and you can’t start now. Trust me. That’s one of the most amazing things about you. That big stupid heart of yours. Never give up. Okay?”    
            “Okay,” Clint replied, letting out a shaky breath. “So now what?”   
            “Now… now might be a good time to try and lay low. Wait until this whole thing blows over,” Sam said though the words seemed to pain him. “I promise you we’ll see each other again before this all over. It might even be sooner than you think.”   
            Clint didn’t bother to fight the tears spilling from his eyes at the thought of saying goodbye to yet another family. And of course, it had to be today. What was it about his birthday that meant he had to lose everyone he cared about? First Phil and the Starks. Now Pepper and Sam. Oh god, Pepper.    
            “Tell Pepper I’ll miss her.”   
            “I will,” Sam promised, drawing him into another hug. “This isn’t the end, Clint. I swear it. You are not losing me or Pepper. Ever. Pepper has been by your side for twelve years and I’ve been there for ten. We’re not letting you go when we’ve put in all this work. This is not the end of your story. I promise you will have a happy ending at the end of it all.”   
            “You see the future now?”   
            “I know some things, yeah.”   
            Clint laughed quietly and pulled away. “Thanks, Sam. You know for everything.”   
            “Always, kid.” Sam held up his hand. Clint rolled his eyes but met his friend for their customary handshake.   
            It felt so normal and out of place in the moment. It almost felt like he was just temporarily saying goodbye and would see him later that evening. But Clint knew better. They both knew that Clint was always living on borrowed time at the palace. Rumlow and Pierce wanted him gone years ago. But Stane kept him around but Clint doubted that even Pepper could save his ass this time. He also didn’t want her to try. It was awful enough that she was being forced to marry Stane in the first place. He didn’t want her using herself as a bargaining chip to save his sorry hide.   
            “You’re breaking my heart here, kid. Trust me. It’s going to be okay. You’ll see.”   
            “Yeah,” Clint nodded tearfully. “I know. You should go. Pepper is going to have questions and I don’t want her to hear this from Rumlow. I would rather you tell her. God knows how Rumlow and his crew are going to twist this.”   
            “Yeah,” Sam sighed. “I’ll see you later, kiddo.”   
            “Yeah, later,” Clint whispered as Sam walked away.   
            For the past ten years, Sam and Pepper were the only things keeping him together. It figures that all it took was one slip of the mouth and he lost them both. He thought this day couldn’t possibly take more from him but it was here to prove that it would never stop taking from him until he had nothing left to give. Then again… in the course of one day, he lost his friends, his job and his home. So he didn’t exactly have anything left to lose anyway. So the bright side was that it couldn’t possibly get worse.   
            And of course, the universe was once again ready to prove that it could. He heard the whispering footsteps just a second before a heavy weight crashed on the back of his head. He staggered for a brief moment, trying to turn on his assailant before the weight was back again and everything went dark. Because of course, it got worse. Of course…

He really hated his birthday.

**Author's Note:**

> to be continued


End file.
